


A Winter's Tale

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:18:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9647789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: Based on "Imagine Bofur singing to you to cheer you up when you’re feeling sad" and "Imagine getting your first experience of winter at Erebor and someone literally having to warm you up."





	

Snow fell across the broad plains, the flakes bigger than any you had seen in winters past. You gazed out through the open wall of the throne room, the brooding king beside you along with half a dozen of his advisers. The chamber had long grown silent and all you could hear was the subtle breath of the others. Around you the air was fraught with anxiety.

“It’s been three days, Thorin,” Balin turned to his king with a frown and you looked over at him as the other dwarves did the same, “Our scouts have found nothing and as each hour passes, what they seek grows ever more distant.”

“That or she is dead already,” Dwalin crossed his arms beneath his thick cloak, “Or she does not want to be found. The former would be more likely.”

“Brother,” The white-haired dwarf redressed his sibling with a startled look, “Do not be so crass.”

“He is right,” You stepped forward into the somber fray, “But that doesn’t mean we quit looking. Dead or alive, she must return to the Mountain.”

“You’re right. All of you,” Thorin sighed, his blue eyes darkened with worry, “I always knew that girl’s stubbornness would be her demise…That foolish little girl!”

“No, not a little girl. Not anymore,” You resisted the shiver which tickled your spine, “Which is exactly why she is out there. Alone. Because you never wanted to listen to her ‘girlish whims’.”

“She is out there because of those ‘girlish whims’,” He retorted sharply, “She is a princess. She has a duty.”

“And you do to. You are supposed to protect her,” You clenched your jaw as you spoke, “Not give her away to some cruel Lord of the Iron Hills.”

“You gird your tongue,” Thorin warned, “She is not your daughter.”

“No, but she is my princess, and she does not deserve Lord Kantur, no more than his last two wives did.”

“I owe my cousin for his aid in the Battle,” He looked down ruefully as he glanced towards the pale sky, “I have waited too long to repay him.”

“So you repay him,” You agreed, “But not like this. He has three sons, he has other lords. Better lords.”

“She didn’t have to marry him,” His voice was like silt, “All she had to do was meet with him. Humour him. At least then…I would have reason to tell my cousin no.”

“But that’s not what you said to her,” Balin sounded almost frailer than he looked, “She would never had fled into the snowy wilds if you had. She is not a stupid girl, she knows the danger of Erebor winters.”

“I know it’s my fault, alright!” Thorin’s boom echoed across the tall ceiling of throne room, “I know.”

“But like Balin said, she isn’t stupid,” Bofur spoke for the first, pulling down the ears of his thick hat, “Which means she’s not dead. She’s too crafty for that, I know the girl well. She is much too headstrong to die.”

“Then what?” Thorin eyed his adviser wearily, “Are you saying then that she simply does not want to be found.”

“Likely not. But what I am saying is that you’ve simply not sent the right trappers.”

“What?” Thorin’s dark brow lowered with the corner of his lips.

“I’ll go find the girl, I promise,” He vowed, his breath a fog before him, “At least, I’ll find more than those clueless attendants. The last party you sent could not find silver in a mine.”

“I told you, Bofur, I cannot afford to lose any of you,” Thorin’s greying hair looked silver as it caught the light, “Not when my daughter is already lost.”

“You won’t,” You pulled your cloak tight as the cool air filled it, “I’ll make sure of it. You send the both of us and we won’t come back empty-handed.”

“Both of you?” The king looked between the two of you.

“Yes, both of us,” You answered, “We will keep each other from getting lost and…perhaps the princess would be more like to speak with a dwarrowdam. Or at least listen to me. I know Thorna well and so does Bofur. We’re your best chance and of the few can survive out there.”

“One week,” Thorin rasped as he turned to look back to the falling snow, “That is all I will allow. If you are not returned before, I will not send anyone to find you. I can ill afford to lose more dwarves.”

* * *

You had packed mindfully as you knew the snow would slow you down much more than anything. Yet, as you looked out across the snow-riddled landscape, the bag felt heavier than it should. As it were, you had little enough to make the week you were allowed in the wilderness and lightening yourself of one layer of fabric was not an option. Out there in the snows among the blistering gales, you would need every inch of wool to keep you alive.

You crumpled a sheepskin-lined cap in your hands, wringing it as you thought of what you were descending into. What if it was all for naught? No, the princess could not be dead. You would find her. You would find her and bring her back to her father and all would be well once more.

“[Y/N],” Bofur’s voice carried from the doorway as he entered, “Are you ready, lass?”

You turned to look at the thickly-bundled dwarf; his boots wrapped in hide and two scarves around his neck. His cloak was thicker than yours and his hat pulled low and secured around his chin. His footsteps were subtle patters across the stone and the pack on his back was barely distinguishable from the other layers of clothing piled around his frame.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” You sighed and kicked your pack which laid before your feet, “I only wish it would let up for an hour at least.”

“You know the snows as well as me,” He stepped up beside you, bending down to lift up your pack with a grunt, “We’re fortunate enough that we can see through it.”

“Right,” You frowned as he helped you into the straps of your pack, “Though I think winter is the least of our worries…”

“We’ll find the princess, [Y/N],” Bofur assured, though his smile was tempered with an uncharacteristic gloom, “I think you’re right. About you. She’ll listen to you.”

“Perhaps,” You pulled the sheepskin hat over your hair, “But even if she listens, there is no promise she will heed my words.”

“Such worries are not important, not now,” He set a hand your shoulder, “First, we will focus on finding the princess, then we will worry about making her listen.”

You nodded and pursed your lips, pulling your thick hide gloves from your belt with one last look to the whitened horizon. Bofur tapped your shoulder gently before dropping his hand and turned back to the door, “Come on, then. Best be off before the real storms blow in.”

He led you down the corridors which grew more frigid as you went until finally you came upon the archway which looked out into the plains. You stopped beside him and looked down the steep decline which would lead you to the forest. There, you were sure, the princess was hiding, though the beasts of winter also awaited you there.

“Here,” Bofur pulled free a thick cord from inside his cloak and handed you an end, “Tie this around you.”

“Oh,” You took it and secured it about your waist, the knots hard to form with your gloved hands.

“It will keep us from getting separated,” He explained as he did the same with his end of the rope, “Should the snows grows too fearsome. But if it comes down to it, don’t be afraid to cut yourself free. Should it come down to one of us or the other, you take the opening, lass.”

“It won’t,” You assured him, though you barely believed that yourself, “Now, let us be off before I change my mind. I’ve a warm hearth calling to me and it grows ever more tempting as I look out on these snows.”

Bofur descended first, leading you into the snow slowly. It was so deep that it rose past your waist and so thick that your steps were stunted by the heavy powder. By the time you reached the bottom of the steep pathway, you were out of breath and your cheeks already numbing against the chill.

You pulled your scarf over your face as the hidden land plateaued below the snow and suddenly you were up to your chest in the white waste. Bofur continued on without a complaint and you cursed yourself for your own weakness. The rope pulled slightly at your waist and you kicked yourself closer to him, loathing the idea that you would slow him down more than the snow.

By the time you had crossed the buried plains and met with the forest line, it felt as if it had been hours. Surely it had been at least one or the powder was playing with your mind. Bofur stopped as you entered the brush and turned back, his chest lifting and rising as rapidly as yours, though it was hard to tell through the layers of wool.

“Well, that was a trek in itself,” He leaned against a tree and fished around under his cloak, “Best we have ourselves a drink before it freezes entirely.”

He removed a waterskin from within and uncorked the lid, holding it out to you. You took it gracious though it was near to solid in your hand. You swig a mouthful, paying mind to leave him more than before returning it to him. He drank eagerly before lowering it and making a show of squeezing the hard ice within.

“That should have to do us for now,” He replaced the cork and tucked the skin away, “We’ve still a ways to go…though it should be a bit easier now that we’re in the trees.”

He gave a smile and pushed himself from against the tree. You followed him as he began down the path. The snow had fallen unevenly among the trees, the branches overhead leading them into piles while leaving a slightly shallower trail between them.

You forced your legs through the heavy snow, wanting to claw at it as it held you back. You looked around yourself for any sign of footprints, though you knew that the snow was so constant that they would be long-buried.

You continued your trek, your breath almost as thick in the air as the snow around your bottom half. Bofur allowed little grunts here and there yet you were sure that you were making enough noise for the both of you with merely your lungs. The sky darkened steadily though it was hard to tell as it was never more than a hazy gray.

A howl sounded as you entered a pristine white clearing, untouched by the stirrings of creature or hunter. The trees stood as black beacons against the darkening sky, the moon a distant spec in the gloom. Along the eastern edge, a cave looked to be shrieking into the night, its opening a jagged as fangs.

“Ice wolves,” You rasped as you came to stand beside Bofur, “It’s getting late.”

“Aye, it is,” He agreed and brushed away the pile of snow which had collected on his hat, “And the wolves are closer than they should be. Looks like that cave will be our only respite.”

“Hmm, so it seems,” You frowned as you looked to the dark mouth, “But it has the looks of a bear’s den to me.”

“Could be,” He contended, crossing his arms and giving a shiver, “There’s not much choice though. We stay out here any longer and the ice wolves will find us. I’d rather prefer a bear’s maul than to be shredded by a pack of dogs.”

“I suppose,” You chewed your cheek as you mulled over his words, “I don’t think I could go much further as it were. This winter… more vicious than the last.”

“That it is,” He started forward and you trailed him reluctantly, “It is a wonder any creature still dares the snows.”

“Or princesses,” You grumbled as you reached the line of rocky daggers across the cave opening.

Bofur slipped between two, nearly trapped as his thick clothing nearly doubled his width. You did the same, trying not to tangle the cord as you did. As you made your way in further, the cave began to descend and you became ever surer that you would find yourself impaled upon the rocks.

At last, you cleared the teeth of the cave and braced yourself to happen upon a worser fate as Bofur led you into the dark. Your boots echoed around you and you had barely noticed the sound of the other pair cease, walking into your companion’s back with a groan.

“Pardon me,” You said as you stepped back and listened to him shuffle around in the dim, only a trace of light reached you from the front of the cave.

“My fault,” He removed his pack and ripped it open, digging around until he pulled free flint and stone. He took a cloth from inside his cloak and found a thick stick from the cave floor, wrapping it carefully and tying it with a length of hefty twine. He sparked the end and held up his torch to the deeper crags, “Onwards.”

You walked deeper into the cave as the flickering light guided you along until you were once more halted by Bofur. As you entered a small chamber of the cave, he held out his free arm to still you and smiled. A thin gesture but reassuring nonetheless.

“This will have to do,” He handed you the torch and untied the rope from his waist, “It will be easier to warm this place, anyhow.”

He set down his pack and glanced around the small chamber, frowning as he did so and looked back to you. “Stay here,” He ordered grimly, “I’ll go search for more sticks. Though I daresay whatever fire we do manage won’t last more than an hour or two.”

“Enough to cook with,” You tried to sound optimistic as you made to return the torch to him.

“Keep it, lass,” He waved away the fire, “I can find my way. Many a time in the mines I found myself in deeper darkness than this. You sit here and work on that food you speak of.”

“Alright,” You stepped back and watched as he turned to the crooked doorway, “Don’t get lost.”

He sent one last smile over his shoulder before he disappeared into the darkness beyond and you looked back to the chamber. You found enough rocks to hold the torch up while you began your work. You dropped your pack along the wall and searched through it for your kettle.

As you waited for Bofur, you found your water skin and frowned as you found it completely frozen. You tossed it back in your pack and took the small pot you had brought along. While you sorted through your rations, Bofur returned with and armful of stick, some looked to be close to branches, a proud smile upon his face.

“I’ve got to go collect some snow,” You greeted him dully, “All the water is turned to ice.”

“Ah, yes,” He dropped the pile with a clatter, “Of course, let me start a fire first.”

You helped Bofur set up a circle of rocks and in arranging the sticks within it. He lit the pit easily with the end of the torch before handing it to you, the flame slowly building and lighting the tight chamber.

“Be careful,” He warned as you took the torch, “There’s enough snow near the mouth of the cave. You needn’t go outside.”

“Thank you,” You replied as you held back a chill, “I shouldn’t be long.”

“I’ll build a spit,” He smiled eagerly, “Perhaps it won’t be so dismal a night after all.”

You returned his gesture weakly before leaving him to his work. You were eager for a cup of tea but less so at the idea of sleeping on the cave floor. Even with your bedroll below you, it would be painful, and once the fire died, the cold would do you no favours.

* * *

The next morning, you woke half-frozen atop your bedroll. The fire had lasted you longer than expected but no longer than half the night. You had saved enough wood to heat the kettle for a breakfast tea and Bofur had been grateful as the ends of his mustache had gathered frost in his sleep.

The cord was once more secured around your belt but this day you had volunteered to lead. You knew the forest as well as Bofur and it was a more difficult task to traverse the snow without footprints to guide you. Bofur’s had formed your path the day before and yours would be his for the day to come.

The snow fell heavier than the day before and no sign of the princess was to be found. You and Bofur took turns calling her name and searching through caves. With nothing to show for your second day, you retired to another cave, this one deeper and colder than the last, and made another flimsy fire.

The next day mirrored the last and as the sky darkened above you once more, your fears stabbed you with defeat. You had not found a single sign that the princess had even been in the forest and you were running out of time. If something had happened to her, you would rather find her now than to find her corpse in the spring thaw.

However, there were no caves to be found in this part of the forest, only snow and trees. You dragged yourself through the snow, barely keeping up with Bofur, though he was not moving very quickly. A familiar tree caught your eye and you reared up, pulling the other dwarf back by the cord tied between you.

“What is it?” He turned, half his face hidden below a scarf.

“There,” You pointed and his eyes followed the line of your arm, “That tree.”

“What about it?” For once, he sounded less than chipper though the twinkle remained in his grey eyes.

“Just follow me,” Your lungs burned as the night cooled the air, so much that it hurt to talk. You led him through the snow and around to the other side of the broad tree, larger than any other in the area. You could see the hole in the side of the trunk and you began to clear snow frantically.

“What in Mahal are you doing, lass?” Bofur pulled you back by the cord.

“Help me,” You ordered without explanation and turned back to scoop away more snow. You sensed the doubt as he lingered a moment before joining you in your labour.

“You know, I don’t know what’s worse,” He uttered through heaving breaths, “Digging in the mines or the snow.”

“Look,” You straightened at the patch of snow cleared away, the opening of the trunk visible, “We don’t need a cave.”

“It is filled with snow,” He stared at it fearfully.

“I know, which is why we must work quickly and stop talking,” You kicked away the snow within as it fell in an avalanche before you. As it did, you found that within the trunk, most of the snow was shallower.

You climbed inside and began to push out the snow, tugging at the rope around your waist until Bofur finally released his end. You had removed most of the snow and Bofur had swept it away from the entrance, “We’re going to spend the night in here?”

“Where else?” You shrugged as you waved him into the trunk, you would have to sleep sitting up but it was better than nothing, “Thorna used to hide here when she was younger. I had almost hoped that she would be here.”

“Mmm,” He pursed his lips as he entered, “Perhaps she is close by.”

“Perhaps,” You untied the rope from your waist and set it aside with your pack, unwrapping your bedroll across the small space of the trees interior, “But it will at least serve to protect us for the night.”

“We’ll not be able to build a fire,” He grumbled as he dropped his pack, “Even if we weren’t in a tree, I doubt we’d find wood that would burn.”

“A cold night, but out of the snow,” You fell down onto you bottom atop the bedroll, “A bit cramped, too.”

“An understatement,” He took you lead and sat beside you, “But without a fire we’ll have each other to keep warm.”

He pulled a bundle out of his pack and unwrapped strips of salted meat, handing you a few before chewing on his own. You bit at the half-frozen beef, tougher than any jerky you had eaten before. You closed your eyes as you ate and let your head fall back against the tree wall.

“We’ll find her,” Bofur broke the rising silence through a mouthful, “I know it seems like we won’t, but we will.”

“How do you know?” You asked let your head loll towards him.

“I just do,” He shrugged and reached into his pack once more, pulling free a round flask, “Ale?”

“You brought ale?” You eyed the canteen incredulous and he grinned as he uncorked the top, holding it out to you with a wiggle of his brows.

“It don’t freeze, not even in this cold,” You took it from him and sniffed it wearily; you were not the biggest drinker but it would have to feed your thirst. “And perhaps it will lift your spirits, eh.”

“Perhaps,” You gulped deeply before handing it back and he took a heart swig before replacing the top.

You pulled forth a sachet of dried fruits and split it between the two of you without another word. The night was darker than most and without a fire, it felt like doom. Bofur offered you another sip of ale to wash down the berries and then tucked it back into his bag.

“Mahal, it is bitter,” Bofur pulled his hat lower on his head and wriggled closer to you.

“Terribly,” You agreed, shielding your aching cheeks with your gloved hands.

“Here,” Bofur leaned forward as he unclasped his cloak and pulled the heavy fur-lined wool from beneath him. “We’ll be warmer if we share,” He spread the cloak across the two of you and you tucked the edge beneath you as he did the same.

“Thanks,” You shivered but could already feel the warmth of your bodies collecting under the heavy garment.

“No use being sad and cold,” He pressed closer and you could not resist leaning into him, “Besides, I’m not sure we’d survive the night otherwise.”

“I’m not…sad,” You lied as you leaned your head back again, “I’m just worried.”

“Aye, I am too, lass, but I can see the sadness in you,” He commented knowingly, “It is in me, too, but I know it is not all of me. I know there is hope.”

“She is out here,” You said more to yourself than him, “I know, it’s only…I don’t want to find her if—“

“Don’t say it, lass. Don’t even think it.” He ordered, though his tone remained compassionate. He cleared his throat and before you could respond, his voice was filling the tree with a new kind of warmth. He was singing.

_…There was a lass among the trees, whose eye were filled with light,_  
With skin of glass and lips of silk, her hair was spun of night.  
Sat upon the river’s edge, I spied the maiden sprite.  
There she danced across the meadow, below the sweet twilight…

You closed your eyes as Bofur sang, his melody warming you as much as his cloak. As you basked in the sweet tones of his voice, you felt yourself lifted and nearly forgot why you had been so upset. All you could think of was his song and felt yourself drifting away. Soon you slipped into slumber though you could still hear him singing in your dreams, his lyrics stirring your mind.

* * *

You awoke warmer than you had in the last few days and found yourself pressed against Bofur, the cloak pulled tight around both of you. Your head was upon his shoulder and he snored softly in your ear as your eyes fought to waken. The morning air was biting and you loathed the thought of leaving the protection of the cloak.

“Mmp,” Bofur’s snoring ceased with a snort as he lifted his head, “Is it morning already?”

“Unfortunately,” You answered with a yawn as you sat up straight.

“How’d you sleep?” He made no move to rescind his cloak or to even rise. Instead, he merely rubbed his nose and sniffled against the cold.

“As well as can be expected,” You answered plainly, recalling the sense of peace that had filled your night, “But your song helped.”

“My song?” He thought a moment before chuckling, “An old song.”

“I’ve never heard it before but it was beautiful,” You smiled at him, “Truly.”

“Well a beautiful lass needs a beautiful song,” His own smile was wide and nearly made you blush. He had always been quite the flirt, but you had only ever thought of it as nothing more than his way. He was ever the clown and could barely be taken seriously, but something in his manner felt genuine.

“We should get moving,” You diverted your thoughts and his attention as you moved reluctantly from beneath his cloak, “No time to waste.”

“Ah,” Bofur uttered but said no more as he slowly rose, pulling his cloak across his shoulders.

You readjusted your own cloak and lifted your scarf over your face, bracing yourself for the cold outside the tree. Your pack felt heavier as you loaded up and once more tied the cord around your waist. You were the first out the doorway and you nearly cursed as the wind whipped your cloak tails fiercely.

“Where to?” You wondered aloud, looking along the snowy drifts.

“What do you think?” Bofur stepped up beside you, the snow crunching with every move.

“Hmm, well…” You quirked your lips and thought, hands on hips as you searched for any trace of the princess in the vast white. “I have one idea.”

“What’s that?”

“North of here there’s a place,” You thought aloud as you turned, “A pass… When Thorna was young, I found her there on more than one occasion, when she wasn’t hiding in this tree. There are caves in the pass, though I told her many times they were dangerous.”

“And when was she ever one to listen. Is that not why we find ourselves searching for her now?” He chuckled as he nudged you, “We’ll go your way, eh. I cannot think where else she’d be.”

You took the lead that day, the trees thinning as you went until tall rocks took their place. It was close to evening as you saw the drop off ahead and you led Bofur to the edge, “Down there,” You pointed below to the darkening pass, “There is a path around here that will lead us there but it is not an easy one.”

“It wouldn’t be,” You could hear the dread in his voice and felt much the same.

You set off once more, the snow slowing you down and as you reached the steep pathway, you found it flooded with snow. Yet as you pondered a way down, something made your heart leap. Among the white there was something shining and what could have been the remnants of a footprint.

“Bofur,” You said as you jumped forward, nearly pulling him down into the snow as you grabbed at the sparkle. You turned back with the silver pin in hand and held it up triumphantly. It was a pin you had seen many times; a knot of thorny vines wrapped around a crown, “It’s Thorna’s. He mother made it for her when she was a child.”

“Aye, it is,” He smiled and your heart beat furiously, “She must be here.”

“Come on,” You turned and began to push through the snow, the rope at your waist tugging as Bofur reluctantly joined you.

Several times you nearly slid down the snow drift as it grew steeper and you got closer to the bottom. The sky was nearly black by the time you reach the floor of the pass to find it equally laden with snow. You fell into it, out of breath and looked around as Bofur remained standing.

“That was…too much work,” You panted and let him pull you back to your feet, “But we’re getting–” Close, you had meant to say but your voice broke as footsteps could be seen ahead of you, “Bofur!”

He followed your gaze and laughed as his face brightened with realization. If Thorna’s prints were not yet snowed over, she must be near.

“THORNA!” You yelled and your voice echoed down the path, “THORNA, PLEASE! IT’S [Y/N]! I JUST WANT TO TALK!”

No answer came as you waited and you looked to Bofur glumly. You turned and began to retrace her footprints with your own. You would find her one way or another.

“THORNA!” You called out as you went and Bofur did the same. Your voices carried across the stone walls of the pass and you looked around the dozens of caves that lined the way. You could not guess what creatures hid within but you hoped you would not find out.

“I’m not marrying him,” Thorna’s voice seemed to come from the wind itself, “So you can go back to the Mountain and tell my father.”

“I already did, Thorna,” You called back as you searched for her hiding spot, “We all did. You don’t have to marry him.”

“Why should I believe you?” She hissed back with spite.

“I promise you,” You pulled the scarf away from your face, “Your father doesn’t want you to wed, he just wants you home.”

“You’re lying!” She accused and you heard movement from behind you, turning to find her emerging from one of the caves.

“Thorna, I didn’t follow you all the way here just to cozen you home. Please, just listen to me.” You pleaded as you held out your hands, “The whole Mountain is looking for you because you are their princess, not because they want you to be someone else’s. Your father, he doesn’t care who you marry, he just wants you to be happy…and if he should think to force your hand, I’ll fight him myself.”

“Me too,” Bofur finally spoke up, “I daresay I know a whole company who’ll fight the king.”

“Oh, Bofur,” Thorna’s tone lightened as she neared, “You’ve always been a talker.”

“Princess,” He said gently as he stood before her, “I promise you will not marry that old bastard of a dwarf. Upon my honour and life. Now please, tell us you’ll come home with us so we can find somewhere to build a fire. My nose is about to fall off.”

“I can’t believe the two of you came all this way,” She looked between you and you could see the smile hidden beneath her stubborn façade.

“We did,” You assured her and pulled your cloak tight, “And we won’t return empty-handed so please, let us find somewhere to rest, we’ve a long way home.”

“I did not say yes,” Thorna insisted.

“You don’t have to,” You took her arm gently, “Now please, for the love of Mahal, show us where you’ve been hiding. I need to get out of the snow.”

* * *

Thorna had made camp in one of the smaller caves along the pass, inside she had left what little she had taken with her. The carcass of some animal she had managed to trap lay in the corner; the bones stripped of meat and the fur hung from the cave wall. You surmised that it was a snowfox and frowned as you knew she would never have survived the winter on her own. She was a good trap but they were more predators than prey to be found in this season.

Bofur and you worked on building a fire in the grim cavern as Thorna watched silently. She seemed to have fallen into a state of shock and you could now see the toll the wild had taken on her. Bundled as heavily as yourself, he clothing was riddled with filth and even the blood of her prey, her face a raw red from the cold yet pale with fatigue.

You unpacked your cooking wares and sifted through what was left of your rations. Potatoes enough for a stew and a few stale crackers would have to do for the nights, though you had enough tea for weeks. You filled your kettle with snow as Bofur finished setting up the fire and hung it carefully from the rickety spit.

You ate in silence as the three of you sat in a mutual exhaustion. The wear of the last three days began to set in and you could only imagine how Thorna felt after nearly three weeks in the snowy wild. The night ended with another song from Bofur, this one more serene as it filled the cold air. Sleep came easily though none fell so heavily as the princess.

The morning rose with a sense of relief and optimism. You had found the princess and you could return to the Mountain. A day or maybe two, your journey would be smoother as you would not be searching for Thorna.

“So, we found her,” You said to Bofur as you tied the cord around your waist.

“We did, I told you we would,” He smiled as he lengthened the rope with another, “You shouldn’t doubt me.”

“Oh no?” You asked coyly with a chuckle, “A voice as smooth as yours and I’m afraid you could make the cruelest lies sincere.”

“Lies? I would never lie to you, lass,” He waved over Thorna as he spoke and secure the rope around her waist, “Isn’t that right, Princess? Aren’t I the most honest man in Middle Earth?”

“Honest?” Thorna laughed, an unexpected yet welcomed trill, “You once convinced me that a goblin lived behind the Mountain. It turned out it was only you in some ridiculous disguise.”

“Aye, a trick not a lie,” His chuckle was even more pleasant than hers, “Let’s not get hung up on the past…To the future. Let us be off before we’re snowed in.”

* * *

You came in sight of the Mountain in the late morning of the second day after you had found the princess. The snow had ceased falling though that which was on the ground slowed your way. You no longer travelled with a line between the three of you, sure of your path, and your packs had lightened since your departure enough that your progress was quicker.

You climbed up the steep decline to the Mountain, trailing behind the princess with Bofur behind. Several time you slipped and he had kept you from going further, for which you were thankful. Thorna’s steps had grown heavier the closer you got to home and you could see the anxiety forming in her eyes.

You passed into the dark corridor of the Mountain, kicking dirty snow from your legs and boots. The tails of your cloak were soaked and nearly frozen stiff as you stepped up beside the princess. Your steps were numb and clumsy and you longed for a fire to warm your toes.

The tall archway of the throne room loomed ahead and Thorna walked through, a small stutter in her gait as she entered. You could feel the tension rising from her and your own stomach began to stir. You had seen the princess and king face before and you were sure there was one to come; this one would rival any other.

You looked across to the open wall of the Mountain but the king was not stood in his usual vigil. Your eyes were drawn instead to the throne where a pile of furs rested and it was not until you saw the rising of the silver and black head that you recognized Thorin. His distraught scowl broke as he glanced his daughter beside you and he stood suddenly.

“Thorna,” His steps were heavy and hurried, and he nearly tripped before he could reach his daughter, pulling her into a tight embrace, “You’re alive.”

“Of course I am, father,” She choked as she struggled against him, “Father, please, you’re going to suffocate me.”

“I am so sorry, Thorna,” Thorin released her but took her hand, almost as he feared that she would disappear, “I never…You don’t have to marry Lord Kantur. You don’t have to marry anyone. Please, don’t ever leave me like that again.”

“No, I’m sorry,” The princess said and you were surprised that neither could remember their anger, “I should not have been so foolish. I only…once I was out there, I thought you’d never take me back.”

“Never,” Thorin assured her and you could see tears sparkling in his blue eyes, “I would never turn away my only daughter.”

“Father,” This time it was Thorna pulling her father into a hug and you smiled to yourself as you watched from the doorway, forgetting the chill which had not left your bones for days.

“Oi, [Y/N],” Bofur elbowed you as he stood beside you, “It’s quite an endearing seen, but I think perhaps we should leave them to their reunion.”

“I suppose you’re right,” You looked to him with a smile, recalling the feather bed waiting for you.

“What do you say to some tea? A proper cup of tea?” He crossed his arms, his grey eyes set on your cheerfully, “I’ve got a warm hearth and plenty of blankets. How about another song, too?”

“Oh?” You were surprised by the invitation. You had known Bofur since you had made the journey to Erebor so long ago but something about this was so very different than before, “Why not?” You shrugged, “As long as it’s warm.”

“Aye, that it will be,” He assured, offering you his arm with a crooked grin, “And if the fire doesn’t do the trick, I think we may come up with a few more ideas.”

“Bofur,” You smacked his arm, “Just because I would accompany you to your rooms does not mean I’ve consented to anything more.”

“We’ll see about that,” He chuckled with a wink and you could not withhold the smile it drew forth, “I’ll just have to make sure to sing the right tune. Perhaps, The Miner and His Lady.”

“Be quiet,” You continued on with a roll of your eyes though your cheeks betrayed more than disinterest, “Before I change my mind.”


End file.
